Iowaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaguuuuughghghhgh

So, turns out "IOWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA" makes for terrific primal scream material-- I've done my best impression above, and I did it a lot over the course of our ride through the headwindy hills of this great state. Today marks the culmination of some of the most intense riding we’ve done so far, as well as the most miles we’ve ridden consecutively. Today was only about 45 miles (which, ironically, was the longest ride I'd ever done before this trip), but yesterday was an 82-miler, the day before I rode 102, and the day before THAT was 93 or so. And Iowa, despite all initial speculation, is HILLY. Like, 4-5,000 vertical feet of climbing per-day hilly. And windy, like, feels like you're going uphill when you're flat, and feels like you're flat when you're going down. It cancels out gravity out here. Yesterday I was riding downhill, hands-free, and started decelerating. It was eerie. It was frustrating. But we got it done.

So far, though, Iowa's been a pleasant, welcome surprise. In an earlier post, I alluded to a popular belief that these four states or so would be like one big, boring, flat state. And despite the fact that it's been a big, flat, boring ride at times, the people and places have been absurdly welcoming and generous. And beautiful. See attached pictures.

We spent the day after our first "century" in Cedar Rapids, Iowa, which is an awesome little city with a killer farmer's market and a really good bike shop, where I got a cushy pair of Nike spandex (turns out they're the best. I've come to agree...). I was in Cedar Rapids till about 10:30 AM with Bronwyn, Win, and Chantel, waiting for Win's bike to be fixed, and then had to deal with a "76 mile" day which turned out to be 82, featuring 14 miles on GRAVEL ROADS. I'm not talking about pleasant hard pack, either, I'm talking about the kind I'd feel comfortable on with a mountain bike. Maybe. The leaders used four sources to check the directions, all of which indicated that the roads we'd be following were "two lane blacktop," and "well-suited for bicycles." Win and I had a 10 mile shiatsu butt-massage thanks to those darn "blacktop" roads, in 92-degree heat, with a 25-mph headwind. Up hills.

I'll stop bitching. Incredibly, we maintained a positive attitude through all of this sadistic washboard, and after "first lunch," (on 90+ degree or 90+ mile days we get TWO lunches, which is unbelievably exciting) we managed to actually have fun. Lauren was insane, and chanting "Push it, Push it" up hills, and we (Bridget, Win, Lauren, Eric, Carrie, and I) all had an impromptu primal scream session at about the mid-point of a terrible, wind-ravaged plateau. My internal monologue, unprintable in this forum, was hysterical by then. It normally consists of three- and four-letter words that I blush about, but yesterday it was far worse-- strings of said words, creatively arranged, ending in "hills," or "wind." Or "leaders," though I'm not proud of that one.

All of that aside, on days like that I keep in mind that, no matter how much it sucks, it'll pass. And we'll make it, and it'll feel great to make it. We had no showers, and cold pizza, but the ice-cold, Marines-style shower I took was about the most satisfying one I've had in a while. We're in Ames, Iowa tonight, after a real nice 44-mile jaunt over some hills and against the wind. I like it here. More to come soon.